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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Family
- Published: 10/17/2019
A Mother's Love
Born 1944, F, from Melbourne, FL, United StatesA Mother's Love
by
Valerie Allen
“Your brother has used me for the last time,” Eileen said. She wadded the wet dishcloth and tossed it onto the counter. It slid across the worn surface into the empty sink with a thud. Eileen bowed her face and the thin flesh of her neck wrinkled, spreading into a network of spider lines. Blue veins crisscrossed the top of her hands as she leaned against the counter top for support. She closed her eyes and pictured her only son as she cradled him in her arms 29 years ago. A fine lad, Danny said. He'll do us proud. Yes, indeed, I whispered.
Eileen opened her eyes and clasped her arms around her waist. “I remember brushing the wisp of red hair covering the soft spot on your brother's head. I held him to my breast and kissed his pink cheeks.” She sighed “He’ll be a good son and a fine young man, I told your father. I'll see to it.”
Her three daughters exchanged glances but said not a word.
Now, standing in her kitchen, Eileen lifted her face and looked out of the window above the sink. That was the only peaceful moment we ever had with him. She spoke to her daughters without looking at them. “I'm ashamed to say, it wasn't to be.” Eileen lifted a finger and rubbed the corner of her eye. She turned around and looked expectantly at the three young women.
“Yes Mom, we know Brian's a problem,” Mary Kathleen said. She took a deep breath, straightened her back, and eased forward in her chair.
Theresa, hands folded on her lap, shifted her gaze between Mary Kathleen and Bernadette. Three grown women seated around the well-worn family table like schoolgirls. They had come on a mission and none was eager to confront their mother with bad news.
“Why did you speak of him, Mary Kathleen? You know it's upsetting. He's nothing but an alcoholic, drug-using, career criminal, with no regard for his family.” Eileen’s eyes flashed in anger. “Now, the words have been said. Let's just leave it at that.”
Her three daughters sat in silence.
Eileen lifted her chin and stretched open her eyelids to catch her tears. She sniffed. “That boy broke our hearts many a time.” She shook her head and raised her eyes toward heaven. “God only knows.” The slight Irish brogue of her childhood slipped into her speech. It was the tone of a bitter woman beset with sadness. “Your sainted father is turning in his grave.” She touched her fingers to her lips and then to her heart.
“Yes, Mary Kathleen, let's not bring up anything unpleasant about brother Brian,” Bernadette said, not trying to conceal her sarcasm. She rolled her eyes and a deep sigh escaped her lips.
“Watch your tongue young lady,” Eileen warned, glaring at her youngest daughter. “I’ll have no disrespect in this house.”
Theresa shot a warning look at Bernadette. Theresa’s chair scraped on the wooden floor as she stood. Bernadette braced her hands on the tabletop, tipping back her chair and rising to join her sister. Theresa picked up her car keys. “Mom, I made our lunch reservations at O’Tool's Grill for 1:00. We need to get going.”
“Let's do before any more talk of your brother spoils my birthday.” Eileen pulled the worn, flowered apron from her waist, looped it over a nail protruding from the door jam, and soothed it with the palm of her hand.
“No wait,” Mary Kathleen said. She looked from Theresa to Bernadette and motioned for them to sit down. Mary Kathleen lowered her voice. “Mom, we are going to spoil your birthday. We have to talk about Brian.”
“I should have known. My birthday has never been the same since your blessed father departed.” She made the sign of the cross. “May he rest in peace.”
The three sisters looked from one to the other. As in childhood, a silent message passed between them, each wanting the other to speak first.
Eileen lifted her light blue cardigan sweater from the back of her chair and arranged it across her shoulders. “I was suspicious, you girls all coming together just to take me out to lunch.”
“Mom, please, don't start,” Theresa begged.
“So get on with it. What has he done now?” Eileen asked, her brogue adding a demanding element to the question.
“He has a child,” Bernadette said without fanfare.
Eileen's mouth dropped open. She caught her breath and grabbed at the chair closest to her. She looked at each of her daughters and saw the truth in their eyes. She eased herself onto an empty chair. “Mother in heaven. Tell me it’s not true!”
“It is true.” Mary Kathleen reached up and placed her hand on her mother’s quivering shoulder. “I was contacted by Child Welfare. The baby is at Saint Elizabeth's Hospital.”
The muscles on Eileen’s neck tightened as disbelief turned to anger. She took a long deep breath and tried to control the tension in her voice. “I don't suppose he thought to get married first.”
“No Mom, he didn't,” Bernadette said.
Eileen’s eyes shone with fury. She spoke between clenched teeth. “What kind of a girl would get involved with the likes of him, let alone bring an innocent babe into the world?”
Bernadette brought both fists down onto the table. All turned to look at her. “Just the kind of girl we thought he would be involved with, Mom. She's an alcoholic, drug-using, prostitute.”
Eileen clasped both hands to her chest and felt the rapid beat of her heart. She allowed the tears to run unchecked down her pale cheeks.
Bernadette lowered her voice and slowly shook her head. “At least, she was.”
Eileen’s head jerked up. “What do you mean?”
Theresa reached over and placed her hand on her mother's arm. “Mom, the reason they called Mary Kathleen is because the mother died giving birth. Brian is listed as the father.”
“Blessed Mother of God! How would a woman like that even know who the father was?” Eileen asked.
“Brian told them it was his baby.”
Eileen sat motionless for a few minutes and then slowly pushed herself up from the chair. Defeated, she turned and leaned against the cold porcelain sink, the wet dishcloth resting in a heap to one side. She bowed her head, her chin resting on her chest.
Rarely had her daughters seen their mother so overwhelmed. Never had they witnessed her at a loss for words. The silence seemed to make a noise of its own, joined by the ticking of the clock and the hum of the refrigerator. Each woman experienced her own private misery.
Without turning around, in a whisper, Eileen asked, “Why isn’t your brother here to tell me about this?”
“Because he's everything you said he is Mom,” Bernadette shouted. “He's always done things his way and we've always covered up for him. He left us to clean up his mess and fix his problem, that's why!” Bernadette began to sob. The rush of words brought out emotions held in check since childhood.
Mary Kathleen embraced her youngest sister, both gently rocked back and forth.
“Brian took a paternity test, told them how to get in touch with us, and then he left town,” Theresa said.
“What's going to happen to this baby?” Eileen asked. “What was he thinking? The world can be a hard cruel place for any of us, but for an innocent child, with no parents? How did he think this child would survive?”
The three sisters drew close to their mother and embraced her. Mary Kathleen whispered, “He named her Eileen.”
# # #
Thank you for taking the time to read
"A Mother's Love"
If you enjoyed it,
please consider telling your friends
and posting a review
on Amazon.com or other online sites.
Word-of-mouth referrals are
an author's best friend
and much appreciated.
~ ~ ~
A Mother's Love
by
Valerie Allen
Copyright 2014 Valerie Allen
All rights reserved
For more information, please contact:
Valerie Allen
VAllenWriter@gmail.com
ValerieAllenWriter.com
Amazon.com/author/valerieallen
Amazon.com/dp/B00K2DU7ZI
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events, is entirely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author.
~ ~ ~
Short Stories by Valerie Allen
A Good Thing on a Bad Day
A License to Practice
A Marriage of Convenience
A Mother's Love
A Tooth for a Tooth
A True Miracle
Ad Hoc Committee
Best Wishes
Brotherly Love
Conditional Love
Doggie Tales
Father's Day
Fire Engine Red
First Love
Fit for Life
Future Plans
Holiday House Rules
Holiday Traditions
Home for the Holidays
I Remember Momma
Just Be Cos
Ladies in Waiting
Leisureville
Love is in the Air
Match-maker
Mother Knows Best
Potty Talk
Puppy Love
No Goin' Home
Second Chance
Small Steps
Split Second Timing
Thank You! Mr. Jackson
The Garden of Love
The Lonely Life of Amanda Miller
The Penalty Box
Words of Wisdom
Valentine's Day
A Mother's Love(Valerie Allen)
A Mother's Love
by
Valerie Allen
“Your brother has used me for the last time,” Eileen said. She wadded the wet dishcloth and tossed it onto the counter. It slid across the worn surface into the empty sink with a thud. Eileen bowed her face and the thin flesh of her neck wrinkled, spreading into a network of spider lines. Blue veins crisscrossed the top of her hands as she leaned against the counter top for support. She closed her eyes and pictured her only son as she cradled him in her arms 29 years ago. A fine lad, Danny said. He'll do us proud. Yes, indeed, I whispered.
Eileen opened her eyes and clasped her arms around her waist. “I remember brushing the wisp of red hair covering the soft spot on your brother's head. I held him to my breast and kissed his pink cheeks.” She sighed “He’ll be a good son and a fine young man, I told your father. I'll see to it.”
Her three daughters exchanged glances but said not a word.
Now, standing in her kitchen, Eileen lifted her face and looked out of the window above the sink. That was the only peaceful moment we ever had with him. She spoke to her daughters without looking at them. “I'm ashamed to say, it wasn't to be.” Eileen lifted a finger and rubbed the corner of her eye. She turned around and looked expectantly at the three young women.
“Yes Mom, we know Brian's a problem,” Mary Kathleen said. She took a deep breath, straightened her back, and eased forward in her chair.
Theresa, hands folded on her lap, shifted her gaze between Mary Kathleen and Bernadette. Three grown women seated around the well-worn family table like schoolgirls. They had come on a mission and none was eager to confront their mother with bad news.
“Why did you speak of him, Mary Kathleen? You know it's upsetting. He's nothing but an alcoholic, drug-using, career criminal, with no regard for his family.” Eileen’s eyes flashed in anger. “Now, the words have been said. Let's just leave it at that.”
Her three daughters sat in silence.
Eileen lifted her chin and stretched open her eyelids to catch her tears. She sniffed. “That boy broke our hearts many a time.” She shook her head and raised her eyes toward heaven. “God only knows.” The slight Irish brogue of her childhood slipped into her speech. It was the tone of a bitter woman beset with sadness. “Your sainted father is turning in his grave.” She touched her fingers to her lips and then to her heart.
“Yes, Mary Kathleen, let's not bring up anything unpleasant about brother Brian,” Bernadette said, not trying to conceal her sarcasm. She rolled her eyes and a deep sigh escaped her lips.
“Watch your tongue young lady,” Eileen warned, glaring at her youngest daughter. “I’ll have no disrespect in this house.”
Theresa shot a warning look at Bernadette. Theresa’s chair scraped on the wooden floor as she stood. Bernadette braced her hands on the tabletop, tipping back her chair and rising to join her sister. Theresa picked up her car keys. “Mom, I made our lunch reservations at O’Tool's Grill for 1:00. We need to get going.”
“Let's do before any more talk of your brother spoils my birthday.” Eileen pulled the worn, flowered apron from her waist, looped it over a nail protruding from the door jam, and soothed it with the palm of her hand.
“No wait,” Mary Kathleen said. She looked from Theresa to Bernadette and motioned for them to sit down. Mary Kathleen lowered her voice. “Mom, we are going to spoil your birthday. We have to talk about Brian.”
“I should have known. My birthday has never been the same since your blessed father departed.” She made the sign of the cross. “May he rest in peace.”
The three sisters looked from one to the other. As in childhood, a silent message passed between them, each wanting the other to speak first.
Eileen lifted her light blue cardigan sweater from the back of her chair and arranged it across her shoulders. “I was suspicious, you girls all coming together just to take me out to lunch.”
“Mom, please, don't start,” Theresa begged.
“So get on with it. What has he done now?” Eileen asked, her brogue adding a demanding element to the question.
“He has a child,” Bernadette said without fanfare.
Eileen's mouth dropped open. She caught her breath and grabbed at the chair closest to her. She looked at each of her daughters and saw the truth in their eyes. She eased herself onto an empty chair. “Mother in heaven. Tell me it’s not true!”
“It is true.” Mary Kathleen reached up and placed her hand on her mother’s quivering shoulder. “I was contacted by Child Welfare. The baby is at Saint Elizabeth's Hospital.”
The muscles on Eileen’s neck tightened as disbelief turned to anger. She took a long deep breath and tried to control the tension in her voice. “I don't suppose he thought to get married first.”
“No Mom, he didn't,” Bernadette said.
Eileen’s eyes shone with fury. She spoke between clenched teeth. “What kind of a girl would get involved with the likes of him, let alone bring an innocent babe into the world?”
Bernadette brought both fists down onto the table. All turned to look at her. “Just the kind of girl we thought he would be involved with, Mom. She's an alcoholic, drug-using, prostitute.”
Eileen clasped both hands to her chest and felt the rapid beat of her heart. She allowed the tears to run unchecked down her pale cheeks.
Bernadette lowered her voice and slowly shook her head. “At least, she was.”
Eileen’s head jerked up. “What do you mean?”
Theresa reached over and placed her hand on her mother's arm. “Mom, the reason they called Mary Kathleen is because the mother died giving birth. Brian is listed as the father.”
“Blessed Mother of God! How would a woman like that even know who the father was?” Eileen asked.
“Brian told them it was his baby.”
Eileen sat motionless for a few minutes and then slowly pushed herself up from the chair. Defeated, she turned and leaned against the cold porcelain sink, the wet dishcloth resting in a heap to one side. She bowed her head, her chin resting on her chest.
Rarely had her daughters seen their mother so overwhelmed. Never had they witnessed her at a loss for words. The silence seemed to make a noise of its own, joined by the ticking of the clock and the hum of the refrigerator. Each woman experienced her own private misery.
Without turning around, in a whisper, Eileen asked, “Why isn’t your brother here to tell me about this?”
“Because he's everything you said he is Mom,” Bernadette shouted. “He's always done things his way and we've always covered up for him. He left us to clean up his mess and fix his problem, that's why!” Bernadette began to sob. The rush of words brought out emotions held in check since childhood.
Mary Kathleen embraced her youngest sister, both gently rocked back and forth.
“Brian took a paternity test, told them how to get in touch with us, and then he left town,” Theresa said.
“What's going to happen to this baby?” Eileen asked. “What was he thinking? The world can be a hard cruel place for any of us, but for an innocent child, with no parents? How did he think this child would survive?”
The three sisters drew close to their mother and embraced her. Mary Kathleen whispered, “He named her Eileen.”
# # #
Thank you for taking the time to read
"A Mother's Love"
If you enjoyed it,
please consider telling your friends
and posting a review
on Amazon.com or other online sites.
Word-of-mouth referrals are
an author's best friend
and much appreciated.
~ ~ ~
A Mother's Love
by
Valerie Allen
Copyright 2014 Valerie Allen
All rights reserved
For more information, please contact:
Valerie Allen
VAllenWriter@gmail.com
ValerieAllenWriter.com
Amazon.com/author/valerieallen
Amazon.com/dp/B00K2DU7ZI
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events, is entirely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author.
~ ~ ~
Short Stories by Valerie Allen
A Good Thing on a Bad Day
A License to Practice
A Marriage of Convenience
A Mother's Love
A Tooth for a Tooth
A True Miracle
Ad Hoc Committee
Best Wishes
Brotherly Love
Conditional Love
Doggie Tales
Father's Day
Fire Engine Red
First Love
Fit for Life
Future Plans
Holiday House Rules
Holiday Traditions
Home for the Holidays
I Remember Momma
Just Be Cos
Ladies in Waiting
Leisureville
Love is in the Air
Match-maker
Mother Knows Best
Potty Talk
Puppy Love
No Goin' Home
Second Chance
Small Steps
Split Second Timing
Thank You! Mr. Jackson
The Garden of Love
The Lonely Life of Amanda Miller
The Penalty Box
Words of Wisdom
Valentine's Day
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JD
10/19/2019Nicely done and believable. Beautifully written and told story about an awful family tragedy. I've never been a mother so have never had the experience of a child gone astray, but I can imagine how completely heartbreaking it would be. I'm glad her wayward son left her with one small glimmer of hope in his final act of love and tribute in naming his daughter after her. Perhaps it will help her with the struggle and trials ahead in raising her grandchild. And one can only hope her son's child will not turn out like her father, but rather her sisters and her grandmother, which her father hoped for in his final act of naming her. Thanks for sharing your short stories with us, Valerie.
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